


until i fall away

by jemscarter



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, blink and you'll miss it hint at romantic fitzsimmons, season 1 esque in tone and characters, talk of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-16 09:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18689152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemscarter/pseuds/jemscarter
Summary: Daisy Johnson died on Tuesday, March 17 at 1:47 pm. This is what happened afterward.  (Coulson, May, Fitz, and Simmons form a team of reapers -- those tasked with reaping souls before they die.  Now, Daisy is going to join their ranks. Based on the mythology of Dead Like Me).





	until i fall away

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the mythology of Dead Like Me (as well as one particular incident from the show), but you don't have to be familiar with that at all to read this. Very season 1 in tone and character relations, but no Ward.
> 
> Title from the song by the same name by the Gin Blossoms.
> 
> This is very Gen, with a passing reference of potentially romantic Fitzsimmons.

Daisy Johnson died on Tuesday, March 17 at 1:47 pm. This is what happened afterward.  
  
“Wha-“ Skye jolted as she found herself standing outside her van that was currently ablaze.

“Hello!” a peppy British woman around Skye’s age waved at her cheerfully, “Over here!”

Skye had no idea what was going on, but no else seemed to be paying any attention to her so she walked over to the woman.

“What happened? Did you save me?”

The woman chuckled, “Not exactly. I’m Jemma.”

“Skye.”

“Well hello Skye, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I just need to find Fitz and then we can get going.”

“Going where?” Skye asked, her confusion mounting, “What is happening?”

“Fitz?” Jemma yelled, ignoring Skye, “Fitz where are you?”

“Just needed a snack,” a Scottish man said coming over with two soft pretzels from the cart at the corner, “Got you one too. Finished your reap?”

“Ugh Fitz,” Jemma rolled her eyes but accepted the snack, “This is Skye.”

“Hello,” he said through a mouthful of crumbs.

“What, no soft pretzel for me?” Skye joked, trying to deal with her situation with humor.

“It wouldn’t do you much good anyway,” Fitz told her.

Skye opened her mouth to protest but Jemma cut her off, “We should get going Fitz. Don’t want to get caught at the scene again,” Jemma chuckled nervously, “Skye, come with us.”

“I’m not a dog,” Skye mumbled, but followed Jemma and Fitz away from the smoking van. Jemma and Fitz were speaking rapidly in front of her as Skye tried to figure out what the hell was happening.  Last she remembered she was in her van trying to hack into the Pentagon when some woman had asked her for directions, and then just as she was getting situated back into her work she smelled smoke and was suddenly outside the van with Jemma.  Skye looked back as her van, her home, went up in flames and _why was she following these two strangers anyway she was going back to salvage her stuff_ , but then— Skye startled as a man walked straight through her.

“Hey!” Skye yelled after him reflexively, then looked down and realized that the man had _walked right through her_.

“He can’t hear you,” Fitz said, not slowing his stride nor turning around.

“That might happen again since you’re non-corporeal,” Jemma added before going straight back to her conversation with Fitz.

“Hold up,” Skye said, halting in the middle of the sidewalk, “Am I dead?”

“As a doornail,” Jemma chirped.

Fitz elbowed her, “I’m not sure that’s the right tone to take here Jemma.”

“Quite impressive really,” Jemma nodded approvingly, “Most people take a bit longer to figure out that they’ve bit the dust.”

“I saw the van on fire, but I thought you had rescued me or something, with your super-speed, and that we were moving to protect your secret identity,” Skye said.

Jemma and Fitz both laughed lightly.

“That’s a new one,” Fitz chuckled.

“Coulson will love it,” Jemma said.

“Who’s Coulson? Is he a god?”

Jemma and Fitz began to laugh a bit harder.

“I always prefer the inquisitive ones,” Fitz said to Jemma and began to walk again, “Much easier than the criers.”

“Or the ones who want to seek revenge.”

“Can I do that?” Skye asked, running to catch up.

“No,” Jemma and Fitz answered in unison.

“I have to be at the university by 3, if she’s not gone by then can you wait with her?” Jemma asked, as if Skye wasn’t there.

“Yeah, but my reap is around 4 across town, so she may have to come with.”

“Wait did you two kill me?” Skye asked, suddenly becoming more alarmed by her companions’ blasé attitude.

“Of course not,” Jemma chuckled, “We’re reapers not murders.”

“Yeah, that’d be like comparing chefs to farmers,” Fitz said.

“Is it?” Jemma asked, her tone a cross between teasing and judgmental.

“Yes, yes it is Jemma.”

“If you say so.”

“Where are we going?” Skye asked but Jemma and Fitz kept walking and talking.

“We have an hour, should we head to The Playground?” Fitz asked, “It’s too far in the other direction to head home.”

“Only if she’s gone soon. Coulson doesn’t like when we bring reaps to The Playground, says it ruins the sanctity of the place.”

“Still here,” Skye grumbled, but Jemma and Fitz didn’t acknowledge her as they continued walking with Skye following and occasionally being walked through.  

They were almost at what Skye assumed was their final destination when Jemma’s phone rang.

“That’s odd, Coulson never calls,” Jemma said and picked up her phone.

“Hello, is everything alright sir?”Jemma listened for a moment and Fitz began to lean back on his heels and whistle quietly.

“Really?” Jemma looked over at Skye curiously, “Are you sure?” Jemma paused again for Coulson to talk and Skye couldn’t help the slight uneasiness that washed over her. “Alright, we’re on our way then sir.” Another paused and, “Yes, I know you’ve told me to stop with the sir.  Sorry, old habit.”

Jemma hung up and looked at Fitz, “Coulson wants us to head to The Playground.”

“All of us?” Fitz asked doubtfully.

Jemma and Fitz looked and each other and seemed to have a silent conversation.  Skye tried to figure out what was going on from their facial expressions, but all she could surmise was some surprise from Fitz.

“We better get moving then,” Fitz said, turning around and beginning to walk in the opposite direction with Jemma. Skye, figuring she was supposed to go as well, ran to catch up and follow them to this playground to meet the mysterious Coulson.

* * *

  
Jemma and Fitz led Skye to a small, hole-in-the-wall diner called The Playground that Skye had never noticed before.

“Is this place only for the dead or something? Like in Harry Potter when Muggles can’t see the Leaky Cauldron?”

“Coulson is definitely going to like her,” Jemma said, walking into The Playground and striding over to a table in the corner.  There was a man in the booth who Skye could only describe as an everyman. He was much more nondescript and well, average, than Skye was expecting from the man who her newfound dead friends apparently reported to.

“Hello, you must be Skye,” Coulson said amiably, “Sit down. I’d tell you to order something but, well,” he shrugged and gestured towards her body that she only just noticed was slightly translucent as well as not being solid.

“And you must be Coulson,” she replied as she sat down on the empty side of the booth.

“Fitz, Simmons, give us some privacy?” Coulson said and the two nodded and went over to another booth.

“Are you finally going to tell me what the hell is happening?” Skye asked.

“We’re in no rush,” Coulson responded, “I’ll order, then we’ll talk.”

Coulson flagged down the waitress and began to order, giving Skye the opportunity to look around the diner.  No one else looked dead, but then again Jemma and Fitz didn’t look dead either as they happily chatted and sketched something out on a napkin.  In fact, it looked like a regular diner, like the kind she would usually stop in to grab a cup of coffee and bump some free Wi-Fi.

“I’m dead, that’s the one thing I understand so far,” Skye said.

Coulson chuckled, “Sorry, I know Fitzsimmons can be a bit much. I didn’t realize Fitz was tagging along on Simmons’ appointment today.”

“Fitzsimmons?”

“My nickname for them,” he said nodding towards the pair, “They’re attached at the hip. And the mind. Spend more time with them and you’ll notice they have silent conversations and finish each other’s sentences.”

“Is that a dead thing?” Skye asked curiously.

“Just a Fitzsimmons thing,” Coulson said, taking a sip of the coffee Skye hadn’t even realized was there.

“You still haven’t explained what’s happening.”

Coulson nodded, “Well, Skye, welcome to the ranks of the undead.”

“What?”

“We’re reapers, so we’re not technically dead, we’re undead.”

“Wait, reapers as in grim reapers?”

“If you want to be morbid about it sure,” Coulson replied, “Basically we reap souls before they die and help them pass over to the other side.”

“What’s on the other side?”

Coulson shrugged, “No idea, haven’t been.”

“Do you tell everyone who dies all this?”

“No, not usually. But it seems like useful information since you’ll be joining us.”

“Can I refuse?” Skye asked.

“Unfortunately not,” Coulson said, “It’s not a bad job though. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“You’re telling me having to kill people is not a bad job?” Skye cried, her voice rising with incredulity and shock as she learned more about the people she was apparently bound to work for by some order outside her control.

“We don’t kill people,” Coulson said quietly, “And you should learn to keep your voice down when discussing your duties. You’re lucky no one can hear you right now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I have to kill people?” Skye whisper-yelled dramatically.

“Better. And as I said, we don’t kill people. We reap their soul before they die. Weren’t you wondering why your skin isn’t burnt to a crisp?”

Skye hadn’t thought about that at all, caught up in her confusion about what was happening.  She looked down and turned her hand over, searching for bits of crisp skin but saw nothing that indicated she had died in a fire.

“How?” Skye asked.

“Simmons,” Coulson called, “Come here for a moment.”

Jemma bounded over, “Yes?”

“How did you reap Skye here?”

“It was a bit tricky, since she was in her van which was hidden in an alleyway. I had to ask around a bit to find you; I cut it quite close actually,” Jemma chuckled nervously, “Then I knocked on the window and asked for directions and reaped her.”

“That was you?” Skye asked, “But that woman looked nothing like you.”

“Our appearances change to the outside world. You’ll see, when you become corporeal again. You can’t be running around looking like Skye, when Skye just died.”

“You’ll get a new identity and everything, it’s all quite exciting,” Jemma said.

“Alright, thank you Simmons,” Coulson said and Jemma nodded and went back to Fitz.

“So, you see, Simmons touched you when she asked for directions and reaped your soul.”

“What if I just don’t reap someone,” Skye said, leaning back and crossing her arms, “Then they won’t die.”

“Not an option,” Coulson told her.

“Well when do I have to start this whole grim reaper business?”

“Once you’re corporeal, which should be whenever your body is laid to rest. Then we’ll get you set up and you can start. For now you’ll observe Fitz, Simmons, and May.  She’s the other member of our team.”

“How do I know who to reap?” Skye asked.

“You ask a lot of questions,” Coulson chuckled, “You’ll learn in good time young padawan.”

Skye just stared at him blankly and Coulson sighed, “Nothing? Really?”

“Eggs, pancakes, bacon and another coffee,” the waitress said, dropping off a huge plate of food.

“Thank you Maria,” Coulson smiled at the waitress, “Would you mind bringing any food Fitz and Simmons ordered over here as well?”

“Of course,” Maria responded, and within a few moments Jemma and Fitz had joined them at their table.

“Fitz, I’m thinking Skye can tag along on your 4 o’clock to start learning the ropes.”

Fitz nodded.

“And, I’m hoping she can stay with you for a few days, until she gets her own place.”

“But-“ “We-“ Fitz and Jemma began speaking at the same time.

“I know you two have a spare room. And May will definitely say no.”

The two looked at each other and had one of those silent conversations Skye had observed earlier.

“Alright she can stay,” Jemma began.

“But only for a few days,” Fitz finished, “Jemma and I need that space for our research.”

“Oh! Speaking of,” Jemma reached into her pocket and pulled out a vial, which she ran through Skye and quickly capped.

“Perfect,” she nodded.

“We’ve talked about sampling at the table,” Coulson said, not even looking up from his food.

“Sorry sir, but this is a rare opportunity, a recently-departed soul and a reaper who is still non-corporeal.”

“We’ve also talked about the ‘sir.’”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, if that’s settled, I’ll be off.  Fitz, don’t forget to take Skye with you on your appointment this afternoon, and I’ll see you all back here for dinner.”

“Remember I’ll be a bit late,” Jemma said as she got up from the table, “I had to move my office hours this afternoon to accommodate my reap.”

Coulson nodded and left and Jemma leaned over to kiss the top of Fitz’s head before she left as well.  
  
“So…do you guys eat all your meals here or something?” Skye asked, looking around The Playground and taking it in.

“Pretty much,” Fitz said, “We all meet up with Coulson for breakfast to get our post-its, and then we usually meet back for dinner to recap the day.”

“Post-its?” Skye asked.

Fitz reached into his bag and pulled out a yellow post-it, on which was written:

W. VON STRUCKER  
495 5TH STREET  
3:56 P.M.

“That’s how we know who to reap,” Fitz explained.

“Seriously?” Skye responded, “It’s the 21st century. Can’t Coulson text you the info?”

“I think people getting texts every day with the the name, location, and time people die would be a bit suspicious, don’t you?”

“And meeting for breakfast and dinner at a shitty diner isn’t?”

“Oi, don’t disrespect The Playground. This place has the best chocolate chip pancakes in town.”

“Still, I mean, it’s a bit old-fashioned.”

Fitz shrugged, “The post-its are better than the old scraps of newspaper we used to get before.”

“How long have you been doing this?” Skye asked incredulously. At first Coulson had seemed like an average Joe, but there was something in his eyes that spoke to the years he must’ve spent doing this job.  Fitz and Jemma on the other hand seemed like modern twenty-somethings, even if they were a bit odd.

“It’s not polite to ask a reaper’s age,” Fitz said mock-seriously.

“Sorry, guess I’m not used to this whole ‘dead’ thing yet,” Skye responded, Fitz’s idea of a joke going over her head.

Fitz started laughing, “I’m going to have to tell Jemma that worked. She always tries to tell people silly stuff but they never believe her.”

“Ok that was rude,” Skye said, but had also begun laughing.

“Consider it initiation,” Fitz responded, “And to answer your question, it’s been about 80 years now, give or take.”

“Eighty!?”

“Yeah, Jemma and I died during World War II.”

That gave Skye pause, “Coulson wasn't kidding that you two are attached at the hip.”

Fitz looked pensive for a moment, and his face turned more serious than Skye had seen in the short time she had known him. For the first time she could see how he hadlived more years than his face showed.

“I can’t image my world without her in it,” Fitz said.

Skye nodded, unsure of what to say to this man she barely knew.

“Well, we best be going then,” Fitz said, shaking out of his earlier mood, “Can’t be late for W. Von Strucker.”

“Do we even get a picture?” Skye groaned, following Fitz out of the diner.

“Nope,” Fitz replied slyly causing Skye to groan louder as her and Fitz walked towards W. Von Strucker’s fate.

“So we’re supposed to what? Just look around for someone marked W. Von Strucker?”

“We have to try and find him or her, before 3:56 rolls around.”

“I get that but how?”

“Well, Jemma likes to scan the area for potential danger areas and start there. May said she just gets a feeling, and Coulson is good at talking to people.”

“What about you?”

Fitz rubbed the back of his neck, “I like to survey the area, see if I can figure the most probable place for the reap to be and the chain of events leading to the death based on what’s around me. It’s like a puzzle you have to solve.”

Skye nodded, “Alright, so, what do you see?”

“Well, the address refers to the office building we’re standing in front of. It could just be someone walking by who has an unlucky day, but more likely than not it’s someone inside the building.”

Fitz opened the door for Skye and followed her in, “Ah, a directory, good. And we see here, there’s a Von Strucker & Associates on Level 6. I’m betting W. Von Strucker is there.”

“Good job Sherlock Holmes.”

“Thank you Watson,” Fitz said, pausing right before they got on the elevator to grab a security badge when the security person’s back was turned.

“And why the badge?”

“Don’t want to stick out,” Fitz told her, and as they walked across the floor he checked his watch.

“Ok, only 5 minutes to spare. Von Strucker & Associates doesn’t list a W. Von Strucker on the door, so let’s-"He walked inside and was immediately met with pandemonium.  
“Now we turn to the Jemma method,” he grinned and walked through potential danger areas.  No one even seemed to notice him and Skye watched as he dodged a balloon to head over to a man in an office chair.

“Excuse me, are you W. Von Strucker?” Fitz asked in an impressive American accent.

“Who’s asking?” the man replied.

“There’s a package for you downstairs,” Fitz said, touching W. Von Strucker’s shoulder and Skye swore she could see the moment Fitz reaped him.

“Get your hands off me man,” W. Von Strucker said and Fitz held his hands up.

“Just come downstairs when you get a moment,” Fitz said and walked away quickly with Skye in tow until they were back outside the office.  

“Great accent,” Skye complimented.

“The Scottish is more memorable,” Fitz shrugged, “It’s best to blend.”

Skye was about to reply when they heard a loud crash and some screams coming from inside.

“And, that’s our cue,” Fitz grinned and the man, W. Von Strucker, appeared next to them.

“So what? Does this guy just hang around with us all day as well?” Skye asked.

“Who the hell are you two?” W. Von Strucker spat.

“Whoa wait so he can hear me?”

“Of course he can, he’s dead now, remember?” Fitz said as they got into the elevator.

“I’m dead?” W. Von Strucker growled, “Those bastards, dragging me to this dumb party for-“

“So you see Skye,” Fitz said, turning to Skye and ignoring W. Von Strucker’s rant, “Now we get to take Mr. W. Von Strucker here to whatever his final destination is.”

“Which is where?” Skye asked.

“No idea,” Fitz shrugged.

“Are you even listening to me?” W. Von Strucker said, “You two are the lousiest angels ever.”

“Not an angel,” Fitz chirped before turning back to Skye, “See, as I said when we reaped you, inquisitive is the best kind. Much better than revenge-seekers.”

“Hey, what’s your name?” Skye said turning back to W. Von Strucker.

“Werner.”

“Hi Werner, I’m Skye.”

Werner harrumphed and Skye followed Fitz out of the building where a large portal-looking thing was.

“Alright Werner, that’s your stop,” Fitz said, nudging Werner towards the portal where he disappeared.

“Ugh finally, that guy was the worst,” Fitz groaned.

“He just died, shouldn’t we show some respect or something?”

“You just died too; the whole death thing loses it’s respect after a while. You’ll see.”

* * *

  
Skye followed Fitz around for another hour or so as he ran errands and showed her their apartment.

“You’ll stay in there, I’m sure Jemma has some clothes you can borrow once you’re corporeal again if you’re still here,” Fitz had told her before leading them back out.

“Where to now?” Skye asked.

“Back to The Playground, it’s dinner time,” Fitz responded and as if on cue his stomach growled.

“Man I’m going to spend a lot of time at that place aren’t I?” Skye groaned and Fitz just chuckled as they walked back towards the Playground and to Coulson who was in the same booth as before.

“Did you even leave?” Skye asked as she sat down next to him.

“Of course,” Coulson said, taking a sip of his tea.

“So we just always sit in this booth then?”

“Pretty much,” Fitz responded, flagging the waitress down and ordering two hot chocolates.

Coulson looked at his watch, “May should be here in-“ Coulson pointed to the door and a tall Asian woman walked in and sat down with them.

“Coulson.”

“May. On time as ever.”

May nodded and grabbed a menu.

“I still don’t understand why you look at that thing, we’re here every day, you could probably recite it from memory by now,” Fitz said.

May just looked at him and Fitz shrunk a bit.

“May, are you going to say hello to our new team member?” Coulson asked slowly, a hint of teasing in his voice.

May looked at Skye over her menu, and Skye shrunk a bit as well at May’s glance.

“You must be Skye,” May said, then turned to Coulson, “Happy now?”

“Yes, thank you,” Coulson responded.

“Jemma stuck at the college?” May said to Fitz in a way that implied she already knew the answer.

“She had to rearrange her office hours to reap Skye here, she should be here soon,” Fitz responded.

“Well, since we have a little time,” Coulson began, “Skye, how’s your first day been?”

“It’s fine,” Skye responded quickly, “Died, met you, watched Fitz reap a guy, saw my new digs for the next few days, all good.”

Coulson looked at her curiously, “You’re very calm about this.”

“Too calm,” May added.

“Denial,” Fitz said decisively.

“I’m not in denial,” Skye cried, defensiveness seeping into her voice, “I’m just really used to being put in weird situations with little to no warning.”

May made a small noise and Coulson just looked at Skye, but before anyone could say anything Jemma came bustling in.

“Sorry again I’m late, I-“

“Office hours, we know,” May said.

“Hello May,” Jemma responded cheerily, “Coulson, Skye,” Jemma acknowledged, “Fitz, how was your afternoon?”

“I ordered you a hot chocolate,” Fitz told her and Jemma beamed back at him.

“Alright, everyone’s here. Let’s order and recap,” Coulson said, flagging the waitress down again who grabbed Fitz and Jemma’s hot chocolates and headed over.

 

 

“So, is dinner always like that?” Skye asked as she followed Fitz and Jemma back to their apartment.

“Basically,” Fitz said.

“Although May was unusually talkative tonight,” Jemma added.

“That was talkative?” Skye responded in disbelief.

“She must’ve had a good day,” Jemma said as she led Skye through the front door, “Fitz already showed you where you’ll be staying, let us know if you need anything although, at the moment you don’t have any bodily functions so, you should be fairly set, and don’t wander off too far.”

“Can I even sleep in this form?” Skye asked.

Fitz and Jemma looked at each other.

“I don’t remember,” “I’m not quite sure,” Fitz and Jemma said at the same time.

“If you can concentrate long enough to hold a book, there are plenty in your room,” Jemma told her.

“Or use your ghost powers to control the TV,” Fitz added.

“Can I do that?”

“No,” Jemma rolled her eyes, “Why do people always believe the silly stuff you make up?”

Fitz shrugged, “Guess I just have one of those believable faces.”

“Anyway, we’re heading out around eight for breakfast.”

“Eight?” Skye cried, “In the morning?”

Fitz and Jemma nodded and went into their room, leaving Skye completely alone for the first time since she died.

* * *

The next day passed in a similar fashion, with Skye following Jemma and Fitz to breakfast, and then tagging along with Coulson on his reap until they met back with everyone at the diner for dinner and then went home to sleep before going back to The Playground.  They had beat Coulson to breakfast that morning so Jemma and Fitz ran over to secure their booth. Skye walked around a bit, taking advantage of her insubstantiality to see the kitchen and other hidden parts of the diner.

“You shouldn’t go poking around places you don’t belong,” someone suddenly said and Skye jumped out of her skin as she turned around and saw May standing at the counter.

“How’d you know I was back there?” Skye asked.  May smirked and grabbed her coffee to take back to the booth where Skye saw Coulson was now also sitting.  

“There you are!” Fitz said as she got close to the table, “Jemma and I were wondering where you had wandered off to.”

Skye sat down at what was becoming her usual spot next to Fitz.

“Skye, you’re with Jemma today,” Coulson announced, handing out Post-Its to everyone else.

May saw hers, glared at Coulson, grabbed her bag and left.

“I hope she makes it,” Jemma said, “Morning reaps are always such a struggle.  Skye, we’re leaving right after breakfast.  I have some papers to grade back at the house before the reap.”

Skye nodded as everyone ate and parted ways for the day then followed Jemma back to the house.

“Why did you go all the way to The Playground just to come back here? Couldn’t Fitz have grabbed your Post-It?”

“Nope,” Jemma told her as she sat down and pulled out her work, “Coulson insists we pick them up in person; says it holds us accountable.”

  
“I suppose,” Skye said.  The boredom of sitting and watching Jemma grade as she could barely pick up a pencil made her want to crawl up the walls.

“Why don’t I go wander around? I can meet you back here before you have to leave.”

Jemma sighed tightly and looked at the clock, “I don’t want to lose you, Coulson said you have to come with me today.”

“Yeah but we have like what? An hour? Plenty of time.”

“I don’t know Skye, I don’t want you to miss your observation.”

Skye just nodded glumly and starting focusing on trying to pick up Jemma’s pencil.  She managed to get her fingers to stay on it and whooped in triumph.

“It’s like having Fitz here watching me grade,” Jemma mumbled, not lifting her head, “Always distracting me.”

“How did you and Fitz meet?” Skye asked, figuring that if she had to sit here with Jemma she might as well get to know her.

Jemma looked up at her and smiled, but her eyes were faraway.  It was one of the few times Skye could tell just how long Jemma had been around for, “We were both recruited to the scientific division of the army. We were the youngest ones there, and the smartest.”

“Right, Fitz mentioned you two died in World War II.”

“It’s quite unusual for people to die and become reapers together but, Fitz and I have always been different.”

“Did you two hit it off right away?”

“I thought Fitz hated me at first,” Jemma said dramatically, “It turns out he was just trying to figure out the right thing to say. Neither of us had much experience with people our own age, being 16 year old geniuses and all. Once we started talking though well, we never really stopped.”

“You were recruited to the army at 16?” Skye asked incredulously, the weight of Jemma’s words hitting her, “That means you’re younger than I am!”

“Only biologically. And we both had PhD’s, I had two actually, and it was a difficult war.  They needed all the talent they could get, and we were happy to serve and put our skills to use.”

“Is that why you always call Coulson sir?”

Jemma chuckled, “It’s a habit; my first undead boss was also military and liked to be addressed as sir as well, so it’s stuck even in the afterlife.”

“Is it rude to ask how you and Fitz died?” Skye asked. She was met with silence so guffawed and said reflexively, “I mean, you know how I died. You were there.”

“It’s not rude, it was just complicated,” Jemma answered with a small smile, “The short answer is we drowned.  We were running experiments in a submarine off the coast of New York and it flooded.”

“That’s terrible.”

Jemma shrugged, “I suppose. Suddenly I was on the shore though and there was Fitz waiting for me.”

“That’s kind of romantic,” Skye replied.

“It was, in a way,” Jemma answered pensively, and then shifted her tone to be lighter, while also signifying that their conversation about her death was over, “You’d besurprised, Fitz can be quite the romantic when he puts the effort in.”

“Fitz?” Skye exclaimed, “A romantic?”

Jemma nodded eagerly, “One year on my birthday he built a replica of the night sky in our living room. We laid there and looked at them all evening. It was magical.”

“When was that?”

“It was during the 50s I believe, or maybe the 60s, it all blurs together a bit at this point.”

“I can’t image living in the 60s.”

“And in the 60s I could’ve never imagined living in the 21st century but, here we are.”

“Here we are,” Skye echoed.

“Right, well, we should get going,” Jemma said, standing up from the table and ending their conversation, “M. Peterson is waiting for us.”

 

When Jemma turned up to The Playground that evening sans Skye, Coulson immediately knew something had happened. Coulson didn’t even have to ask when Jemma sat down.

“After Mike went through the portal she just stormed off, I went back to the house but she’s not there, I’m not sure where she went, and I know you put me in charge of her for the day and-“

Coulson held up his hand, “It’s fine Jemma.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Coulson held up his hand and called over Maria to get his order to go.

“Dinner’s on me,” Coulson said putting down a $20 bill before leaving the table.  
  
Skye was sulking around one of her old hang-outs. It had been a long day and Skye itched to pick up her computer and hack her way through some complex system as a way to sort out her mind. Picking apart 1’s and 0’s had always calmed her, working through it until they clicked into formation and opened doors to places unknown.  Coulson had told her though that if she did that she’d probably be relocated (not that it made a difference in the world of the Internet), and Skye liked the city she had chosen for herself, and found herself surprisingly enjoying the company of her new team. Her thoughts were interrupted by someone sitting down across from her, and Skye opened her mouth to tell them to leave her alone when the person spoke.

“Hello Skye,”

Coulson. Skye didn’t quite relax, but also knew she couldn’t avoid him and looked up.

“We missed you at dinner,” Coulson said.

“Sorry, yeah, I was, um, busy,” Skye blustered and prepared for the inevitable onslaught of yelling that was to come about her irresponsible she was.

“This place looks nice, come here often?”

“I used to.”

Coulson nodded in understanding.

“You didn’t show up tonight,” he said.

Skye continued to sit in silence.

“We were worried,” Coulson said quietly. That was not what Skye had been expecting. “Did something happen with M. Peterson?” Coulson asked, his voice remaining calm and level.

Skye looked up and crossed her arms, “It was nothing.”

“Will you tell me about it?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Ok,” Coulson said which, again, was not what Skye was expecting, “You know I was a bit like you when I first started out.”

Skye stayed silent, she was curious to see where Coulson was going with this.

“It’s hard, having to live half among the living and half among the dead. May is used to disguising herself wherever she is, I think it’s natural for her at this point. And I don’t think Fitzsimmons have ever fully fit in anywhere,” Coulson chuckled a bit, “But people like you and I, we care about people.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Skye snapped.

“I know a bit about you. Remember I’ve spent a long time with people. This job forces you to be vulnerable with people, day in and day out. You have to lead people through the final moments of their lives and onto the next adventure while you’re stuck here. I imagine someone like you, someone who has learned to take care of yourself first hates that.”

“I don’t hate it,” Skye said, surprising herself with the truth of her statement.

“Good,” Coulson smiled, “I’m glad to hear that. This is a different type of existence, but it can still be worthwhile if you allow it to be. Fitzsimmons do experiments in their home lab, and May teaches tai chi classes in the park every morning before breakfast,” Coulson paused, then bashfully added, “Don’t tell May I told you that.”

“What about you?” Skye asked.

“I docent,” Coulson said, “There’s a history museum around here that has a volunteer docent program.”

“What could I do?” Skye asked cynically, “Teach Hackers 101?”

“No, but, you could teach girls to code. Or take classes to learn how to use your skills in a different way. Or try something new, like painting or construction.”

“Construction?” Skye laughed.

“Why not?” Coulson laughed with her for a moment then turned serious, “Unusual Accidents is hard though, we don’t usually get new reapers here. If you want to transfer somewhere else, I’m sure-“

“No,” Skye said quickly, the thought of having to leave the team making her eyes prick and her chest tighten in an unexpected way, “I don’t want to transfer.”

“Well good, we’re happy to have you on the team.”

Coulson went silent with that and sat, waiting for Skye to speak.

“He was a father,” Skye blurted out, “M. Peterson. He was crying about all the things he would miss in his son’s life.”

Coulson hummed in understanding, “I imagine that was difficult.”

“Fitz was right, the criers are the worst.”

“I don’t mind them,” Coulson shrugged, “It means they cared deeply enough about things in their life to miss them afterwards.”

Skye scoffed, “No one cared that I died. I checked out my old spots the other night, they still haven’t noticed that I’m gone.”

“You shouldn’t go back to things from your life,” Coulson said, his tone a mix between warning and sympathetic.

“I know,” Skye spat like a petulant teenager who had heard this many times before, “But how can I not?”

“It’s something you have to learn, we’ve all had to.”

“But-“

“You should talk to Fitz and Simmons about it sometime,” Coulson said in a way that signified the conversation was over.

Coulson stood up and put a piece of paper in front of her, “I got some leads on apartments from friends in other departments, let me know if there’s one you like and I’ll see what I can do to arrange it. I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.”

With that Coulson left, leaving Skye at the table with more questions, but also a greater sense of calm than before.

* * *

The next morning Skye walked into The Playground to see Coulson and May having a stare-down.  Coulson didn’t acknowledge her or the conversation they’d had the night before, barely even looking up when Skye entered.

“May,”

“No.”

“She has to-“

“No.”

Skye watched May and Coulson go back and forth like a tennis match while they waited for their food.

“Sorry we’re late sir!” Jemma cried rushing into the diner with Fitz behind her.

“Slept through the alarm,” Fitz added, sliding into the booth next to Skye.

“But you two were-“ Skye began but Fitz stepped hard on (really through) her foot and Jemma cut her off by saying, “Still asleep when you left, deeply sorry.”

“Right,” Coulson said, clearly unconvinced, “Here you two go.”

Coulson reached into his bag and pulled out the eponymous yellow post-it notes that were seeming to become an annoying but reassuring staple of Skye’s life.

Jemma cursed, “This is right in the middle of my course.”

“Yeah well at least yours is near the university,” Fitz waved his post-it around, “Why am I always on the other side of town.”

“Can’t you two just trade?” Skye asked.

“No,” I wish,” “That would be nice,” “Absolutely not,” May, Fitz, Jemma, and Coulson answered at once.

“Ok, so no trading. Got it. I’ll add it to my reaper handbook.”

“Melinda,” Coulson said, clearly circling back to his earlier conversation with her.

“Phil,” May responded firmly.

“I’m not asking.”May sighed deeply, “You owe me Phil.”

“I can live with that.”

“What just happened?” Skye asked.

“Skye, you’re going with May today for your last observation. Hopefully you’ll be solid soon so you can start on your own.”

“We’re leaving right after we eat,” May said as the food arrived, continuing to drink the black coffee she always ordered.

“Got it,” Skye said, both excited and scared to spend the day alone with May.

  
Once everyone was done eating and the bill was paid May stood up and walked out of the diner. Coulson nodded towards her with his head and Skye got up quickly and ran after her.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Work,” May answered tersely.

“When’s the reap?” Skye asked, “Maybe I could meet back up with you then?”

May turned and looked and Skye, “Coulson said you’re with me today. That means work, then our appointment, then back to The Playground.”

“Yes ma’am,” Skye said, walked faster to keep up with May.

“And drop it with that ma’am crap. You’re spending too much time with Simmons.”

Skye stifled a laugh as she walked with May towards a nondescript office building.

“Seriously? You have the entire afterlife and you work in a cubicle?”

“Not a cubicle,” May answered as she pulled out her ID badge and headed over to the security desk.

“Davis,” May nodded, sitting down at the desk.

“Morning June, thanks for getting in a bit early today, I have to get my daughter to-“

May held up her hand, “Don’t mention it.”

The man ran off and May gestured for Skye to sit at Davis’ abandoned seat.

“June?” Skye questioned, “What’s next, July?”

“Davis will be back when it’s time for us to leave,” May told her, and then turned away from Skye as she got her stuff ready for the day and began checking in men and women in suits on their way into the office.  The day continued to drag on a similar fashion, slowing with the end of the morning rush until Skye was just sitting there staring at the door and May was reading a book.

“Are you sure I can’t go wander around? Spook some office workers with my ghostly skills? I’ve been practicing, I can almost hold a cup now.”

“No,” May said, not even looking up from her book.

“I cannot believe this is what you do all day.”

“Have to make money,” May replied as she continued to read.

“Yeah but you can’t die — you could do anything.”

May just shrugged and flipped to the next page.

“I’m going to spend my afterlife way more excitingly than this. Maybe I’ll go skydiving without a parachute, or swim to the bottom of the ocean.”

At that May put her book down gently and turned to look at Skye coldly.  Skye would’ve preferred if she had slammed it and began yelling.

“And how exactly would you do that?”

Skye hadn’t actually thought concretely what she would do, just knew it wouldn’t be this and began to flounder for an answer, her confidence dropping as May’s stare grew colder.

May began to speak, “Mary Sue Poots. Orphan, emancipated at sixteen,-“ Skye opened her mouth to interject about how May could possibly know all this but May held a hand to stop her and kept talking. “Jumped from boyfriend’s apartment to boyfriend’s apartment until she ended up living in a van in an alleyway, hacking government agencies and running conspiracy theory boards.”

“They weren’t conspiracy theory boards,” Skye said sheepishly.

“Died in a fire caused by a neighboring coffee cart spilling gas onto the van’s faulty ignition system. Unidentified and alone. Is that what you mean by living excitingly?” May finished, her tone just as even as when she started, but her gaze so cold it could freeze water.

“I-“ Skye started to speak but May began speaking again and cut her off.

“You’re not just living in the moment anymore. You have responsibilities and eons ahead of you. You can’t just hop around and hope it works out like you did when you were alive. Do you even know how lucky you are that you got put on Coulson’s team?” May’s tone began to change for the first time since she had started, “You know most bosses wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if you had somewhere to sleep and food to eat, as long as you got your reaps done and didn’t draw too much attention to yourself. But Coulson, Coulson cares and you want to throw all that out the window just to have a bit of fun. Why don’t you think about that instead of how to squander away your one good shot at a new beginning?”

May turned swiftly away from Skye and picked her book back up, effectively ending the conversation. Skye sat wondering how in the world May could’ve known all that stuff about her, and what she really meant about Skye squandering away her new life.

  
When May and Skye got to the diner that night Coulson was sitting quietly as Fitz and Simmons chatted around him.  Skye was still feeling thrown off after her conversation with May, and had barely noticed as they left her job to deal with her reap before coming back to The Playground.  Skye wasn’t wasting her afterlife, if anything she was going to thrive in it.  She had time and the inability to die, it was going to be awesome.  And yet, she couldn’t help but think back to what May said, about how that attitude had worked out for her in her life, and how Coulson and the team factored into it.  Speaking of Coulson, he continued to be suspiciously quiet after everyone had recapped their day and began eating.

“Skye, you’re coming with me tonight,” he said decisively, before turning to eat his own burger.

“Ookay, do you have another reap or something?”

“Nothing like that, just an errand,” Coulson told her, remaining frustratingly elusive.  May gave him a small look and Jemma and Fitz looked at each other curiously, but other than that no one made any other comment, and after dinner Skye followed Coulson out of the diner.

“I was hoping you’d be solid by now,” Coulson told Skye as he led her up to a building Skye had seen many times but never been inside. The two moved further into the morgue and Coulson nodded at the security guard, who called out to a shorter man who just smiled at Coulson and opened a door.

“Alright, here we are,” the coroner said leading Coulson and Skye into the storage section of the morgue.

“Thanks Billy,” Coulson said and Billy the coroner nodded.

“We’re friends,” Coulson explained slyly to Skye, sensing her confusion at how they got into the morgue with barely more than a nod.

“So, what are we doing here?” Skye asked.

“Checking on your body,” Coulson said, “You’ve been floating for a few days, so it’s time to look and see what the plan is, and how long until you’re a full member of our ranks.”

Coulson went over to the drawers and looked around until he found one marked JANE DOE; VAN FIRE.

“I’m not even identified?” Skye cried, “Ray at the coffee cart knew my name.”

“People get weird around cops,” Coulson shrugged, opening the drawer and Skye saw herself, or, at least what she figured was herself come out. She was burnt to a crisp and barely recognizable, and Skye turned away in shock.

“Sorry,” Coulson said quietly, “Just had to check.” He looked at the file number listed on the drawer and went to the file cabinet, flipping through until he found the file.

“No family, no next of kin,” Coulson read aloud.

“Yeah, so?” Skye said reflexively.

“It’s just that,” Coulson paused and took a breath, “No one has stepped forward to claim your body.”

“Someone will step up eventually,” Skye said, but the waver in her voice clearly betrayed her hesitance in that fact.

“Are you sure?” Coulson asked, “Are you willing to bet your solidity on that?”

Skye looked down and didn’t answer.

“I’ll take care of it,” Coulson told her in a tone that was surely meant to be reassuring before going over to talk to Billy and leaving Skye alone.

Skye looked around for a moment at the depressing inside of the morgue and then stormed out. Someone would find her eventually if they needed her.

* * *

 

Skye walked around aimlessly, her head a jumble of rage and anguish.  The fact that she was not only dead but that no one seemed to actually care that she was gone was hitting her like a pile of bricks.  She had done nothing in her life that made someone care enough to reach out when she perished tragically; no friends, no ex-boyfriends, no one.  May’s words came back to her in a rush, and she couldn’t help but think about how the life she had built was now just a pile of ash in an alleyway.  She spent the night storming around the city just trying to clear her head, and was so lost in her mind that she nearly screamed when she slammed into something as she turned a corner.

“What-“

“You didn’t come home last night,” Fitz said, putting his hands out to steady her before stepping away.

Skye just stared at him in confusion.  She then looked down and saw that she couldn’t see through her hand, something which had once been a given and now seemed like a breath of fresh air.

“I’m solid,” Skye breathed.

“Coulson called,” Fitz continued, “Told Jemma and I to keep an eye out for you.”

Skye cocked her head at him.

“Wait, how did you know where to find me?”

Fitz chuckled a little and Skye hated how sometimes her entire team seemed in on a secret she hadn’t yet been told. “We’re a block from The Playground.”

Skye looked around and sure enough, she seemed to have stumbled to the diner on autopilot in her haze of confusion.

“But, why?” Skye asked.

“Why are we a block from The Playground?” Fitz asked bemusedly.

“No, why are you here?” Skye responded harshly, crossing her arms.

“That’s what friends do,” Fitz told her, “At least, that’s what I think friends do, I haven’t had many besides Jemma.”

“Where _is_ Jemma?” Skye asked.

“She stayed at the apartment, in case you showed up there. I should probably tell her you’re here,” Fitz said pulling out his phone and texting her quickly.

“We’re, um, we’re friends?” Skye asked, trying not to betray the shakiness in her voice.

“Yeah, I mean,” Fitz coughed a little to hide his own vulnerability, “I thought we were.”

Skye swallowed back the rush of emotion that flowed through her and threw her arms around Fitz in a tight hug.  Fitz wrapped his arms around her as well before the two pulled away.

“We were worried about you,” Fitz told her seriously, “Coulson told us what happened.”

“That,” Skye guffawed, “That was nothing.”

Fitz just nodded, clearly unconvinced, “Ok, well if you ever want to talk about it, you know where I live.”

Skye nodded.

“In that case,” Fitz said with some cheer, “It is very early and I think we need to celebrate your newfound solidity with the finest chocolate chip pancakes in the land.”  
Fitz grabbed Skye by the arm and led her to the diner, ordering two coffees and two orders of chocolate chip pancakes, on him, to celebrate her solidity.  

  
A little after eight o’clock Jemma strolled into the diner and beelined directly towards them.

“Good morning Fitz, Skye.”

“Morning,” Fitz said through a mouthful of pancakes.

Skye nodded in Jemma’s direction.

“You started without me?” Jemma pouted.

Fitz grabbed a fork from the table behind them and put some pancakes on it before holding it out to Jemma.

“I suppose this will do as a peace offering,” Jemma grinned, eating her share.

“Hello everyone,” Coulson said, suddenly sitting down at their table with May; the two having walked in unnoticed, “Skye, good to see you back here. And solid at that.”

May just nodded at her before flagging down the waitress for her black coffee.

“Thank you Coulson,” Skye said, hoping he got the deeper meaning behind her gratitude.

“Not a problem,” Coulson responded, before digging into his bag and getting down to the business of the day ahead. “So, first order of business, everyone’s assignments.”

Coulson pulled out five Post-Its and passed four of them around while keeping one for himself.

Skye grabbed hers and looked down at it.

J. SITWELL  
74 ELM STREET  
9:17 A.M.

  
“9:17? That’s in less than an hour!” Skye exclaimed.

“Good thing you already ate,” Coulson responded.

“Bu-“

“Seriously Coulson?” May cut off any protests that Skye could have given.

“Problem May?”

May just glared at him and Coulson smirked before turning to Jemma.

“Jemma, go with Skye today then take her to the ORI. You should have time.”

Jemma nodded decisively as she picked at the remainder of Fitz’s pancakes.

“Do I really need a babysitter?” Skye asked.

“I don’t know, do you?” Coulson asked cheekily.

May rolled her eyes, “You need to get an ID for your undead life.”

“We’ll stop after your reap,” Jemma said, “I need to update Fitz and I’s on-file address anyway.”

“See, it all works out,” Coulson said before starting to eat his eggs that Skye hadn’t even noticed Maria had dropped off.

“Shall we get going then?” Jemma asked, “Don’t want to be late for J. Sitwell.”

Skye nodded and slid out of the booth behind Jemma, who kissed Fitz on the cheek and waved at everyone else on her way out the door.

  
“So, are you excited for your first reap?” Jemma asked a bit too enthusiastically as they walked towards J. Sitwell’s fate.

Skye shrugged, “I’ve already seen this done a few times.”

“If you say so,” Jemma said, “It’s different though, your first one.”

“Seriously I can handle this if you want to just meet me later to go to the- what’s it called again?”

“The ORI. Office of Reaper Identification.”

“Sounds fun,” Skye replied sarcastically.

Jemma just smiled at her as the two turned on to Elm Street.

“Alright, where do we find this J. Sitwell?” Skye asked.

“Don’t ask me, I’m just tagging along. My reap isn’t until this afternoon.”

“It was rhetorical. I’m thinking aloud, that’s my process.”

“Ok well, carry on. Although you should know you only have twenty minutes.”

“Plenty of time,” Skye said nonchalantly as she began looking around the somewhat empty street.  Luckily for her the Post-It had a street name and number so she began to walk towards 74 Elm Street with Jemma following close behind.  Eventually she got there to see more of nothing on the street.

“He’s probably in the house, I’ll head over there in a few minutes.”

“Skye you only have ten minutes left, you don’t want to cut it close, especially in Unusual Accidents.”

“It’ll be fine, there’s no one else out on the street for it to be!” Skye said gesturing around.

“There are so many variables, you should really just knock and see if it’s him.”

Skye stared at Jemma, “Seriously? Ten minutes beforehand?”

“Better safe than sorry.”

Skye sighed loudly and headed towards the door as Jemma gave a self-satisfied smirk.

“Excuse me?” Skye said as she knocked, “We’re here from um-“ Skye thought for a moment, “The gas company! We’re here from the gas company.”

A bald man opened the door.

“Are you J. Sitwell?” Skye asked.

“That’s me.”

“Great, we’re just doing a quick survey, are you pleased with your gas service?”

“It’s fine?” J. Sitwell responded.

“Alright, that will be all from us.”

Jemma nudged Skye and gestured towards his body.

“Right! Well, it was nice to meet you,” Skye stuck her hand out and J. Sitwell tentatively shook it. Skye barely resisted a shudder at the feeling of his soul leaving his body.

“See you soon!” Jemma called back to him cheerfully as they left.

“Seriously?” Skye said.

Jemma shrugged, “He’ll be dead in eight minutes now anyway.”

“How are you so nonchalant about this?”

“About what exactly? Doing our jobs?”

Skye said nothing and Jemma sat down on a nearby bench, “I told you, it’s different.”

“You didn’t tell me I would be able to feel his soul leaving his body,” Skye’s voice rose in horror.

“Shh, you’re being quite loud,” Jemma looked around to make sure no one had heard them, “I suppose I forgot about that part.”

“You forgot? You forgot??”

Jemma gave Skye a withering look, “I’ve been doing this a long time. Longer than you’ve been alive.”

“So what? You’re content to just spend eternity reaping people who are the victims of unusual accidents?”

“I’ll have you know Fitz and I have only been in Unusual Accidents for a year,” Jemma sat up straighter, “We worked Infectious Diseases before that.”

Skye snorted, “Oh, great, so you’re just as new at this accident thing as I am. I might as well be the boss.”

Jemma rolled her eyes.

“Oh, real mature for someone who’s what? 100 years old?”

“20 years old. 75 years undead.”

“It’s not fair that we died so young. It’s not fair that this guy dies so young. Why can’t we just ignore him? Not reap him?”

“Do you know what happens if we don’t reap someone?” Jemma asked, turning more serious.

“No.”

“Neither do I. And I don’t want to find out. The system is set up the way it is for a reason, and I’m not willing to find out what that reason is.”

“You’re telling me that in 75 years you’ve never broken the rules? Not even once?”

Jemma looked down at her shoes and her cheeks turned red. Neither of them heard the crash that came from 74 Elm Street.

“Ha! So you totally have.”

Jemma said nothing.

“What was it?” Skye asked, but before Jemma could answer J. Sitwell appeared before them.

“What just happened?” he asked.

Jemma shook herself out of her previous mood and nudged Skye encouragingly to talk to him. Skye stood up and walked towards him and found her mouth dry and the words sticking.

She turned back to Jemma, “How am I supposed to tell this guy he’s dead?”

“Wait, I’m dead?” J. Sitwell said.

Jemma smiled at her grimly, “That’s the job of a reaper,” she turned to J. Sitwell, “Yes, you are Mr. Sitwell.”

“What happens now?” he asked.

“Skye will lead you to your final destination,” Jemma told him and Skye smiled at her.

“Yes, I will do that, this way,” Skye said and began walking in a random direction.  Jemma gave her a thumbs up behind J. Sitwell’s back. Eventually, after twenty minutes of aimlessly wandering around Elm Street listening to J. Sitwell natter on about who knows what, a portal appeared and Skye all but shoved J. Sitwell through it.

“Was it just me or was the guy incredibly boring?” Jemma asked once he was finally gone.

“Thanks — for saving me back there with talking to J. Sitwell. And, listening to my freak-out.”

“Not a problem,” Jemma chirped, “After all, that’s what friends are for.”

Skye smiled at her and Jemma grabbed her forearm.

“Now, off to the ORI to get you a new identity to start your undead life.”

  
After a long day sitting at the ORI waiting and thinking over everything that had happened that day Jemma and Skye finally walked into The Playground for dinner.

“Officially introducing, Daisy Johnson!” Jemma cheered in a mock presenter voice, ushering Skye towards the booth where the rest of the team sat.

“I like it,” Coulson said.

“Me too,” Skye said, “I think I’m going to use it all the time. Daisy Johnson, it has a nice ring.”

“Daisy it is,” Coulson said.

“How was the ORI?” Fitz asked excitedly.

“Surprisingly like the DMV,” the newly-minted Daisy answered sitting down next to him, “Shouldn’t being dead come with some perks, like being able to skip the lines?”

“Everyone else there is dead too,” Jemma replied.

“Are they all new reapers?” Daisy asked, “I didn’t realize there were so many of us.”

“Every few decades our IDs expire, so you have to go get it renewed,” Coulson explained.

“So it really is like the DMV.”

“Except you leave every time with a new name,” Jemma said.

“How many names have you guys had?” Daisy asked curiously.

“Four,” “Five,” Fitz and Jemma said at the same time.

“Lost count,” May said between sips of coffee.

“Seven, I believe,” Coulson said.

“Whoa, that’s awesome,” Daisy said excitedly.

Everyone else at the table shrugged, much more used to their reality than Daisy was, and began to talk about what they were ordering and throwing menu suggestions to Daisy who had never actually ordered food at The Playground before.

“How did everyone’s reaps go?” Coulson asked once the food was ordered and they were settled again.

“Fine,” May said.

“Nothing else Melinda?” Coulson needled a bit teasingly.

“Nope. That’s all Phil.”

“Alright, Fitz? Simmons?”

“No problems.”

“Smooth sailing.”

“And Sky- sorry, Daisy? How was your first reap?”

“Jemma is crazy prepared. She insisted on reaping the guy a full ten minutes before his time.”

“Preparation is the key to success,” Jemma chirped.

“Better ten minutes before than ten minutes after,” Coulson said.

“We don’t need a repeat of surfboard guy,” May said.

“Wait what’s surfboard guy?”

“Please don’t remind me,” Fitz groaned, “I barely kept my lunch down the first time.”

“Guy got whacked in the head with a surfboard,” May explained in her usual succinct fashion.

“It was a family reunion,” Fitz cried, “Everyone had the same last name and many had the same first! How was I supposed to know which R. Martin he was?”

“His whole face slid out of place,” Jemma patted Fitz on the shoulder sympathetically, “And he stuck around for a while, took nearly two hours for his way out to show up.”

“I nearly puked my lunch right through him!” Fitz said.

Daisy tried to keep a sympathetic face but could barely stop herself from laughing.  Soon Jemma joined in, and eventually Coulson did as well. Even Fitz stopped sulking long enough to join in, no one stopping until the food showed up.

“To Daisy’s first actual meal at The Playground,” Coulson said, holding up his Diet Coke in a toast.  Maybe May was right, maybe taking the slower approach to life would be worth more than Daisy had thought.  She had true friends and a job and was going to get an apartment soon, which was more than she’d had in life.  Everyone clinked their coffee, teas, and water against Coulson’s and for the first time in a long time Daisy felt completely settled as she bit into her burger.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> This is the first SHIELD fic I've posted, and the first fic I've posted in a while, so please go easy.


End file.
